


Fade

by BulletBlaze



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Love Confessions, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Temporary Character Death, The Alpha Pack, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 07:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11962860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BulletBlaze/pseuds/BulletBlaze
Summary: Derek watched as the black tattoos swirling down Stiles’ neck to his arms glowed and moved around his skin. He knew the lines on his back would be writhing in rage at the insinuation that Stiles couldn't take care of himself, and Derek knew he was going to lose this fight.Or, when a challenging pack is toying with the Hale's, Stiles takes it upon himself to seek them out.





	Fade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unelore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unelore/gifts).



> This is for the lovely Unelore's birthday! It's kind of rushed, but I'm okay with the final product, so here you go! I hope you enjoy it, and happy birthday!  
> Title from "Fade" by Holly Drummond (J.G.F. Remix)

The nightly perimeter checks were just a precaution. Nothing hostile had invaded the Hale territory in many years, not since the early days of the Hale Pack, and it only took once for the supernatural world to see that they were not to be messed with.

That was before Stiles had been born, before Derek had been born. That was when Talia had been a mere child.

That's what made the current disturbances all the more… disturbing. 

They knew they were being messed with. While it was possible to mess with the Hale Pack, it was near impossible to trick them. But even so, the hostile pack wasn't even trying to be sneaky in their doings. It was as if they were trying to be found out.

That theory was further proven when Laura burst through the door of the Hale house late one Tuesday night.

Stiles and Derek had been sitting cross-legged on the couch facing one another, working on their bond, per Talia’s orders. Apparently the bond between a future alpha and their emissary needed to be stronger than diamond, and while Derek and Stiles’ bond was already much thicker and deeper than many full grown alphas and emissaries, despite them being only twenty-two and nineteen years old, respectively, you could never be too safe.

So they were sitting there, minds deeply intertwined for the past hour, when the slamming of the front door pulled them abruptly from their shared consciousness, jarring them and making them wince.

“They did it again,” hissed Laura, trudging into the living room. “They crossed into the territory in sixteen different places all around us. But only for a few feet, and then they went back.”

Laura dragged her feet around the couch until she was standing right in front of Derek and Stiles. The two men pulled their limbs out of the way just as she turned around and fell into the space between them. Rubbing her hands over her face, Laura groaned, “What are they doing? Why are they messing with us like this? Why don't they just come approach us, like a normal challenging pack? Instead, they have to do all this stalking bullshit. It's pissing me off.”

Stiles and Derek caught each other's eyes over the top of Laura’s hunched head, shared a sigh and a nod, and then both reached forward to wrap her up in their arms. Derek ran his fingers through her hair as Stiles nuzzled into her shoulder, covering her in the scent of  _ pack  _ and soothing her nerves. A worked up Laura was a sad and grumpy Laura, and no one wanted that. 

“We'll figure it out, Laur. No one messes with us without consequences,” Stiles mumbled into her shirt. A weak rumble made its way from Laura’s throat, and she brought her hands up to rest on Derek's and Stiles’ necks.

“We'll figure it out…”

____

But weeks later, they still hadn't figured it out.

The challenging pack was making their way further and further into the Hale territory, and at more points along the perimeter each time. They were up to 23 different breaches spanning from the perimeter to halfway through the preserve.

They were getting more bold, and the Hale pack still didn't know where their base was. The scent of them was spread all across town, never coagulating in one spot. 

They were smart, and the Hale’s were getting desperate.

That's what led to the current argument centered in the living room of the house and spreading to every corner with every shout.

“Stiles, we are not using you as bait!”

“ _ Derek,  _ yes we are!”

“That is the worst idea you've ever come up with. In what world is that a good idea?”

“Dude, it's a fucking great idea! I'm not a wolf, which they'll be able to smell. But I do smell like you guys all the time, which they'll also be able to smell! Why would they skip the chance of capturing the helpless human pet of the pack they're challenging?”

Derek’s eyes flashed yellow as he stepped into Stiles’ space. “You are  _ not  _ our human pet. You know that.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and threw his arms out. “Well, duh, I know that. But they don't, and that's the point!”

“Don't you realize that you could get hurt?”

Stiles scoffed and replied in a low voice, “Don't you realize that  _ they  _ could get hurt?”

Derek watched as the black tattoos swirling down Stiles’ neck to his arms glowed and moved around his skin. He knew the lines on his back would be writhing in rage at the insinuation that Stiles couldn't take care of himself, and Derek knew he was going to lose this fight. 

So he just breathed steadily and stared into Stiles’ eyes. They were like steel at the moment, hard and heavy, unmoving, a slight light emanating from the whites and the golden amber swirling around, as if being stirred with a coffee straw. With every moment that passed, Derek felt his resolve crumble away a little more until all he was left with was the inevitable worry.

“Just…” He sighed and tried to collect himself. “Be careful.”

Stiles’ body calmed, tattoos regaining their original form and eyes dimming back to their naturally beautiful glow.

“Don’t worry,” Stiles smiled, reaching out to lightly punch Derek on the shoulder. “After all, I know I’ll have you waiting to rush in and save me if things go wrong.”

Derek exhaled slowly, trying to let his body relax, but it refused. So he stepped forward and swept Stiles into a tight hug, nuzzling into his neck and taking in deep breaths of his emissary; his mate.

It was a wonder that Stiles hadn’t figured it out, yet. With all of their time living in each other’s heads, Stiles should have found out years ago. However, it seemed as though all he’d picked up on was the caring, the worrying, the fondness. The genuine love.

He’d picked up on everything, just not what it meant. But Derek was okay with that. As long as Stiles was okay, he didn’t care if he ever found out what they were. Derek just wanted him safe.

Thankfully, Stiles caught onto that part pretty quick, and he hugged Derek back just as tight.

 

  
___

 

As it turned out, Derek was the last of the pack to hear about Stiles’ plan. 

He understood. Really, he did.

But he was still pissed.

That didn’t stop the plan, though, and he was thoroughly filled in on the details after he had calmed down.

Stiles was going to walk around the preserve all day, looking as if he were hiking. He’d have a backpack of snacks and water to last him the whole day, if it took that long, and he would be wearing Derek’s shirt to soak him in the scent of the Hale Pack.

Well, more than he already was, anyway. Derek may or may not have forcefully cuddled him on the couch the night before. The shirt wasn’t even really necessary, and they all knew it, but it made Derek feel better. And a less agitated Derek was a more compliant Derek.

Stiles was also wearing his red hoodie, which served the purposes of covering his tattoos and also making him stand out in the green and brown of the forest.

And so Stiles left for the woods as the sun was rising. It was cold, he was tired, and regret was already creeping its way into the back of his mind.

But nothing would stop him from protecting his pack. Except death.

Which… probably wasn’t a very appropriate joke, considering how possible it was. Still, though, it was true.

The morning was quiet. Birds chirped, small animals scurried to and fro, wind rustled branches and leaves on the ground. Stiles almost forgot he wasn’t actually on a hike, so enraptured in the peaceful serenity of the forest.

All throughout the afternoon, as well, he kept getting distracted by the way the sun shone through the canopy and the way the faint sound of the creek trickled all around him.

It was much more enjoyable in the light of day. Why didn’t he go on walks before?

There was a shift in the air, in Stiles’ very bones, and he went still.

Someone was close; he could feel it.

Before anything else, he tugged on Derek’s consciousness, letting him know that he was okay, but something was coming. He knew his pack would be there in a matter of minutes.

Eyes peeled and footsteps uselessly light, Stiles turned in a circle. All he could see was green and brown, but the sounds of nature he had earlier been enjoying had ceased. 

It was as if the forest was watching and waiting, just like Stiles. Waiting for something bad to happen.

And happen it did.

Stiles felt an intense fear fill his body, knew that danger was coming, and quick, but it wasn’t enough time to defend himself against the shove that sent him sprawling to the ground. Rolling onto his front, Stiles pushed himself back to his feet, not wanting to be at such a disadvantage, and shook off his backpack. 

There was a man standing where he had just been, leaning against a cane, a leisurely smirk on his face.

Yeah, he was definitely evil.

“Who are you?” Stiles demanded.

It was kind of disconcerting, not being able to see the man’s eyes behind his glasses. It made it hard to tell what he was planning.

“I think you know exactly who I am, Stiles.”

And, fuck, he even had a British accent. What was Stiles’ life? He sent out another message to Derek, telling him to hold off on the rescue mission. He wanted to get some information before the inevitable fight and imminent death.

“Um, in theory? I’m guessing you’re the alpha of the challenging pack?”

The man chuckled, shrugging lightly, and replied, “One of them.”

Okay, so he was the alpha-

Wait.

What?

“One of them? What do you mean ‘one of them’?”

Another chuckle. “Yes, one of them. There are four others, somewhere nearby. Waiting. Just like your pack.”

Stiles was thrown.

A pack of alphas. Five alphas, working together.

What the  _ hell. _

“Okay… So, what are you called?” Stiles asked, stalling as he thought of a plan.

“Many different things, Stiles. To my adversaries, however, I am known as the Demon Wolf.”

Stiles hesitated before speaking again. “Uh, I meant… What’s your name?”

“You can call me Deucalion, I suppose. Now, Stiles, where is your pack waiting in hiding? We may as well get this over with quickly, shouldn’t we?”

“Do you really think my pack is stupid enough to come storming in, just because you go looking for them?” Stiles spat.

“No,” drawled Deucalion. “But if their future emissary calls them out, they won’t hesitate.” At Stiles’ shocked expression, the alpha laughed and continued, “Yes, Stiles, we know what you are. We know that you are an emissary in training, someday to takeover as negotiator of the Hale Pack, but you are also human. You are no match against one alpha, much less five.”

Ah, so they  _ didn’t  _ know about him.

“So, I suggest you call for your pack, little emissary, unless you wish to be ripped to pieces.”

Stiles smirked, shrugged off his jacket, and watched Deucalion’s eyes trail down the runes on his arms.

“I’d like to see you try.”

 

___

 

When Derek finally showed up, the rest of the pack hot on his heels, Stiles was standing over Deucalion. The alpha was on his knees, roots of mountain ash growing from the ground and wrapping around his wrists and ankles, pulling him closer and closer to the forest floor. He was yanking hard at the restraints, but clearly the chains wouldn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Derek ran to Stiles, looking over his body, checking for any injuries. Upon founding not a single scratch, he smiled widely at his emissary and dragged him into a hug. Stiles grinned tiredly, patting Derek on the back a few times before letting his arms drop.

Magic was fucking exhausting.

However, his day wasn’t over.

The wolves heard them before Stiles felt them, but once he did, he felt them hard and fast.

The rest of the alpha pack was on them in seconds, coming out from the trees in a blur of snarls and swiping claws.

Derek and Laura growled and intercepted the two identical alphas, watching in horror as they merged into one. But they kept fighting and were well-matched. Talia and Peter were busy going after the big man, striking at him from opposite sides. But the alpha defended himself well and even managed to get in a few hits of his own. Cora, who was too young to fight, was back at the house with her father, Eric, who was human.

That left Stiles and the woman with the bare feet.

He left Deucalion writhing on the ground to face her. All of the fights around him dulled to the background as Stiles examined his opponent.

She looked quick and flexible, but also appeared incredibly observant, if her darting eyes and calm stance had anything to tell him.

That ruled out overpowering her, which was a given, anyway. She was an alpha werewolf, he was an emissary in training- there wasn’t any debate on who was stronger, here.

But Stiles was smart- smarter than most. He would have to trick her.

When the alpha eventually got tired of waiting for him to make the first move, she approached quickly and directly, going straight for Stiles’ stomach with a clawed hand. He jumped back just in time and braced himself for the next attack. It came in the form of a high kick at his head. Stiles ducked, but the woman had freaking  _ claws  _ on her  _ feet,  _ and a sharp pain stung at his temple.

He tried raising more mountain ash from the ground, but he had already used so much on Deucalion. The earth wasn’t quite ready to gift him with more yet.

After dodging a few more strikes, Stiles got another idea. As the alpha was winding up her next hit, Stiles rolled to the side and slipped off his shirt. The tattoos covering his arms and torso shuddered, filling with energy. The next time she struck at him, Stiles let her make contact.

But his skin was blistering hot, and she immediately drew her arm back to her chest, protecting it as the charred flesh healed over.

Red eyes glowed bright in anger at him and a growl passed her lips. The alpha bared her teeth at him and surged forward, pushing her hands forward and shoving him yards back. The skin on her hands was bleeding from the touch, but Stiles could already feel himself losing steam, and she was still healing.

He tried to dodge, but each of the woman’s attacks were precise and perfectly aimed, perfectly timed, until the next shove sent him stumbling back into the creek. Stiles was on his back, trying to pick himself up, when he noticed that the water was only steaming, not boiling like it would have been mere minutes before. He hadn’t realized just how tired his body was getting from using so much offensive magic.

Then he looked back up at the alpha towering over him, and saw her sneer down at him. He saw it coming, but couldn’t stop the lunge and the teeth that sunk tight into the side of his neck.

Stiles tried to scream, but all that came out was a strangled gasp and a gargled whimper.

He could feel his mind and body starting to fade. He couldn’t fight her.

But, he thought as the teeth squeezed tighter, digging deeper, he could take her out with him.

With as deep of a breath as Stiles could manage, he channeled all of his remaining energy and put it into his blood, turning it stronger and stronger until it started to bend to his will. He focused even harder, giving all of his power over to his belief. Belief that the blood flowing through his veins, slower with every passing moment, would turn to wolfsbane.

Stiles’ body suddenly felt as though it was on fire, and he finally screamed.

It cut out as the air was sucked from his lungs from the pain, and through the rushing in his ears he made out another scream, right next to his head. Stiles forced his eyes open and saw the blurry shape of the alpha clawing at her mouth, and he realized the teeth were no longer in him.

She was gurgling, foaming blood spilling from her mouth, until she eventually stopped making noise altogether and collapsed into the water.

Stiles’ eyes slipped closed again as his body started to cool down, veins once again filled with blood. Blood that was still escaping rapidly through the punctures in his neck.

But Stiles couldn’t do anything about that, not when he couldn’t lift a single finger.

So he let darkness catch up with him, but sent one last thought before it consumed him whole.

There was a crash, a howl, and then nothing.

 

___

 

Derek hadn’t left Stiles’ side for three days.

That’s how long it took for his emissary to wake up. The long recovery was to be expected, of course, with everything that had happened.

Stiles had gone down with the alpha he was fighting, into the creek. The next thing Derek heard was him screaming, followed by the woman. Then a voice- Stiles’ voice- whispered something in his head, something he hadn’t quite heard. Then he felt a snap, like a bone was breaking, except it was in his  _ heart,  _ and he knew.

Stiles had died.

He’d died and stayed dead for ten minutes. In those ten minutes, Derek lost his mind. He full-shifted for the first time. After years of trying, it just came to him, and he lost himself in his wolf.

If there had been any life left in the alpha collapsed next to Stiles, there wasn’t after Derek ripped out her throat with his teeth.

Derek had snapped at anyone who tried to go near his mate, had snuffled at the body’s dripping neck, had howled so loud Stiles could probably still have heard it.

Finally, after a few minutes, he buried his nose under Stiles’ arm, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at the dull, still tattoos covering too-pale skin. The sounds of the creek, Deucalion shouting, people crying, their hearts  _ breaking  _ all disappeared beneath his own whining and pounding heart.

He had heard someone approach and lifted his head, narrowing his eyes and growling. It was his mom, hands up in a symbol of harmlessness, showing she just wanted to help.

And if someone could help his mate, he guessed he could let them try.

Talia immediately began chest compressions, but Derek just buried his nose back into Stiles’ skin, whimpering. He couldn’t watch.

A short time later, Derek felt the skin against his nose heating up. He snuffled against it in confusion as it grew warmer and warmer until it was too hot for his nose to rest against. He snapped his head back up and watched the lines on Stiles’ arm shimmer. The glow spread from line to line until his entire torso looked warm and ethereal and  _ alive.  _

It pooled at his heart, seemingly sinking into the skin. A trickle flowed up to the wound on his neck, staunching the dripping and encasing the marks in a golden light. When the light faded, the wound was gone.

A few seconds later, Derek heard something that hadn’t been there before.

_ Boom. Ba Boom. Ba Boom. Ba Boom. _

Derek was on his feet in an instant, yipping and nuzzling into skin and scenting his mate’s living body, every inch of it.

_ Stiles was alive. _

 

___

 

When Stiles woke up three days later, Derek was finally back to human, seated on the queen sized bed next to him, back against the headboard. His eyes were closed, but his hand was resting against Stiles’ wrist, rubbing his skin even in his sleep.

Stiles tried to sit up, but his entire body ached, so he decided that moving was a very bad idea and that he wouldn’t be trying it again until he had some of that nice werewolf pain-drain magic.

So instead of trying to get up, Stiles opened his mouth.

“Derek.”

Just the one word made his throat clamp shut and coughs wrack his sore body. Tears gathered in his eyes as he fought to regain control of his breathing, and when he finally did, he realized Derek was now wide awake, the hand on his arm suddenly streaked with black.

Stiles sagged in relief and smiled weakly at Derek, who smiled back. They both ignored the way it wobbled.

Then Derek was helping him to sit up, and yeah, even with the pain-drain that hurt like hell. But once he was up, he noticed a bottle of water on the bedside table and eagerly reached out to grab it. It took him a few tries to get the cap off, but once he did he was tipping it back and drinking like a man in the desert.

After only a few gulps, however, it was being pulled from his fingers. Stiles fought the force and tried to tug it back to his mouth, but all he managed to do was slosh water into his lap. He groaned and looked at Derek, who was now holding the bottle too far away for him to reach it.

“You’ll throw up if you drink too much at once,” he chided.

Stiles was used to Derek being a worry-wart, but there was something about his face, his voice, his posture that told Stiles this was different.

“What happened?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Derek gulped and looked down. “They’re all dead. They died. But… So did you.”

Stiles’ eyes widened.

“I… What? I died? But then how am I… What?”

Sighing deeply, Derek scrubbed at his face with his free hand. It took him some time to gather himself, and Stiles held his tongue with every fiber of effort his body could give him.

“After you killed the woman… You died, too. You bled out, and your body was drained from using too much magic. You were dead for ten minutes.”

“Then… How did I come back?”

“Well, I wasn’t much help. I was a wolf the whole time Mom was doing compressions-”

“Wait, what?! A wolf?! As in, full wolf? You managed the full shift?” Stiles shouted excitedly. “Why the hell didn’t you lead with that?! Dude, that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever-”

“Stiles, your magic brought you back to life.”

Stiles froze.

His magic… His magic? How did that even happen? How was that possible?

“It was like your spark shocked your heart back into beating. It healed the bite on your neck, too.” Derek’s face was slightly awe-stricken, as if he still hadn’t had enough time to comprehend it himself.

Taking deep breaths, Stiles leaned fully back against the headboard. “Well. That’s, um. That’s something. Magical defibrillator, nice. That’s good to have, I guess. I’m thinking I should go talk to Deaton, though.” His nonchalant voice was so forced, he didn’t even believe it.

“We already told him. He has no idea, so he went to go talk to some contacts a few hours south. He should be back in a day or two.”

Derek’s thumb was back to rubbing circles into Stiles’ wrist, and Stiles realized that Derek was holding back from actually tackling him. So he opened his arms and sighed in relief when Derek didn’t hesitate to fall into them, setting the bottle back on the nightstand behind Stiles.

They sat with each other for a long time, until Derek broke the silence.

“Stiles, before you… Before it happened, you tried to send me a message. What was it?”

Stiles couldn’t remember, but he knew without a doubt what he would say to Derek in his last moments of life. And strangely enough, it didn’t feel weird to tell him again without fear of death. Without fear that he would never get the chance to say it again.

“That I love you. That I’ve loved you for a long time, and that I know you love me, too. That I know we’re mates, even if you don’t want to tell me for whatever bullshit reason you have going on inside your head, and that I was okay with not talking about it, until it was too late. And that if you don’t want to do anything about it… I’m okay with that. But I don’t want to pretend I don’t know anymore. Okay, I probably stopped at ‘I love you’, but the rest is still true.”

Derek looked overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, but so full of love it took Stiles’ breath away.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, yet. Actually, I still haven’t seen your full-shift…”

Derek laughed and ducked his head, breathing a bit too quickly and shaking a little. He nodded.

After standing and stripping off his clothes, Derek faced Stiles one last time before shifting and said, “You already know this, but I love you, too.”

The grin wouldn’t leave Stiles face, and it only grew larger, hurting in the best possible way, when Derek’s wolf form hopped up onto the bed. He was large and black and shiny as could be, and his eyes glowed a brilliant amber- the color of a beta transitioning into an alpha.

The wolf stepped up close to his face, sniffing all around, and then licked a stripe up Stiles’ cheek. Stiles cackled with glee and held his aching stomach, wincing, but never stopped smiling.

Derek was beautiful in all of his forms, and Stiles had never loved someone so much.

 

___

 

Two days later and Stiles was allowed to walk around the house on his own, and the first thing he did was march right down the stairs and into the kitchen where Derek was making Cora’s lunch.

He walked up to his mate and pulled him into a searing kiss. The two didn’t break apart until Cora walked in and saw them, making gagging noises and running out of the room. Stiles and Derek stayed close, though, and they shared the same air as they laughed. Then they kissed again.

And again, and again, and again, every day from then on, for the rest of their lives.

And no one ever messed with Alpha Derek Hale or his mate and emissary, Stiles Stilinski, because they had heard the stories of those who had tried. Those who had failed.

After all, an alpha werewolf was something to behold all on its own. But an alpha wolf with a spark at his side? They were what legends were made of.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think!  
> (Side note, don't ask where John, Scott, and everyone else are in this... because I have no idea.)


End file.
